Frozen Hell
by kdzl
Summary: What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object? Only she knew Emily's location. Doyle intended to find Lauren by any means necessary. Warnings inside. ON INDEFINITE HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

**_Author's Note: _**_Alright, I know. I promised I would have all my other stories finished before I started posting some of these new ones. But, I liked this story far too much to let it sit on my laptop any longer. Though I am a little stuck with my current stories, my beta and good friend laughed at my feeble attempt to end them (which really, you guys should all thank her for). So, I'll finish **Powerless** and **This is the Place** when I have inspiration, **The Fight** will likely continue to have sporadic updates._

**Warnings: **Uh, this is going to get kind of intense, but if you've read my stories before, it will probably be tamer than other stuff I've written. There will be mentions of drug use, drug abuse, etc. Abuse, violence, and possible vague hintings at a little more. But if I told you _everything_ there wouldn't be a reason for you to read it.

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><p>The throbbing dull ache in her arms brought her back to semi-consciousness before anything else. She shifted against the cool concrete, surprised to feel her hands cuffed to a pole above her head. Her eyes snapped open and immediately closed as her head ignited with pain. Blinking slowly, she finally managed to quell the spinning room and glance around at her surroundings.<p>

Her stomach churned as she forced away the absolute panic that welled within her.

It didn't matter how she got here—though it killed her that she had absolutely no idea. It didn't matter what she remembered last—falling asleep in Will's arms with Henry asleep in the next room. It didn't matter how completely terrified she was.

What mattered was getting the hell out of here.

Wherever 'here' was.

She pulled forcefully at her arms, cringing as the sudden movement made her head spin. After yanking with all her might only to have the pipe refuse to budge, she gave up reluctantly.

It didn't make any sense to waste her efforts.

She jumped as a thick metal door slid open slowly. Steeling herself, she tried to force any hint of fear from her face, determined not to give her captor any satisfaction.

She was certain, however, that not even her best press-face could keep the shock (and the fear that accompanied it) from her eyes at the cold hard face of Ian Doyle.

"I should have known better." Doyle drawled, his Irish accent striking a chill against her soul. "Lauren is just the bitch that won't die, isn't she?"

JJ gulped, unwilling to respond.

He chuckled. "You surprised me." He admitted. "I thought you'd already be screaming for someone to help you." He grinned maniacally. "Just so you are aware, no one will be able to hear you."

"Figures." JJ murmured, rolling her eyes.

"I'm going to make this easy for you." The man pulled up a chair that had been in the corner and sat down near her. "I know Lauren isn't dead. I know you know where she is. Tell me, and I'll let you go." He fingered a lock of her long blonde hair and she jerked her head away quickly. He was too close for her to kick him and her arms were currently immobilized.

"Go to hell." She spat, pleased to see her saliva make contact with his cheek and get caught in the scruff of his facial hair.

"Gladly." He grinned more amused than angered by her defiance, wiping off her spit with the back of his hand. "But not until I'm sure that Lauren—Emily Prentiss—is right there beside me." He grabbed her neck forcefully, squeezing tightly as he clamped off her airway.

JJ jerked frantically, desperately trying to free herself as she felt herself suffocate.

"Now where is she?" Doyle asked, his voice cold and devoid of any emotion at all as he let go of her throat.

She coughed, sputtering for air as she pulled against the cuffs restraining her wrists.

He paused, allowing her to recover slightly before asking again, "Where is she?"

"Lauren's dead, you bastard." She croaked, steeling herself enough to glare at him with a practiced coldness as she somehow managed to keep every hint of fear at bay. "But I'll die before I tell you where Emily is."

He smiled, not at all surprised by the woman's dedication. "It'd be a shame to leave that little boy without a mother. Henry?" He prodded. "He's almost three now. Right?"

"Stay away from him." JJ thrashed, somehow managing to kick her weight toward his chair, though she failed miserably at any attempt of injuring him or freeing herself.

Doyle sighed. "I guess we're going to have to do this the hard way." He smiled, pulling out a large syringe with a semi-transparent green liquid.

Her mouth grew dry as she realized his intentions, and despite having her arms almost completely immobilized, she tried to push him off as he easily tied off her left arm with a thin cord.

"I still have all the right connections to get the newest drugs on the market." He smirked, watching as the blue veins in her arm began to bulge slightly. "This particular one has an astronomically high rate of dependency." He tested the syringe. "But you can avoid this if you tell me where she is."

"I won't tell you." She gulped, the bravery of her words undercut by the waver of her voice.

He grabbed her arm forcefully and plunged the contents of the syringe into her vein despite her struggling.

She gasped as the ice cold liquid crawled up her arm, her eyes already starting to blur as she felt her heart speed up slightly.

He smiled, standing to leave. "And Jennifer," He paused, grinning as he saw the government official gasping as the cold liquid coursed through her system. "I didn't want to kill your family, but Lauren left me no choice." He lied shutting the door behind him and allowing the woman to suffer for a while.

He would be back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **_Wow, I was astonished by the response for this story. Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, and/or alerted. I hope I don't disappoint. This may be a little different from what many of you were expecting, but where would the fun be if you could predict it all?_

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><p>When she was a recruit at the academy, they put her through 'hostage training'. It was standard. They handcuffed her to a chair, shouted at her for an hour, just to see if she could stay in control long enough to wait, and trust that her team would find her.<p>

As a recruit, it had been pretty simple.

After all, they couldn't kill her.

Throughout her years with the bureau, she had attended every 'hostage training seminar' that had been scheduled. Mostly, she went because it was required—that, and she refused to be the weak link on any team. Even then, the rules remained the same:

Stay calm.

Assess the situation.

Trust your team.

Stay alive.

But they had never warned her it would be like this.

Her arm was burning, itching more than she ever thought possible. She felt the beads of sweat along her brow. But the worst part, the worst part by far, was the blurring images that continued to materialize in front of her.

She was going crazy.

No one had ever warned her how to not go crazy.

Suddenly, a figure materialized next to her. His face, his stance, even his scent was unmistakable.

"Gideon?" She leaned forward, forgetting her arms were still trapped above her.

Funny that he should be the first person she'd see.

Maybe she was dead.

"I thought you were better than this." Gideon shook his head sadly, disappointment flooding his voice.

She frowned, fully aware of what he meant. It disgusted her too, really. Her body soared, cruising in a way she had never felt before.

And she liked it.

But she had seen what this did to Reid.

It disgusted her that it felt so good.

It wasn't supposed to feel good.

"I didn't—" She tried to defend herself. "I couldn't stop him." Tears that had already pooled in her eyes ran down her cheeks.

She hadn't stopped him from drugging her.

She hadn't stopped him from hurting her family.

She had failed.

"Did you try?" Gideon snorted derisively before she could answer. "This is why I never wanted you in the field. You were always too weak for that."

His words stung. Partly because Gideon had filled that fatherly role she had never experienced. Partly because she knew he was right.

Somewhere, she realized that he wasn't real, that there was no reason for Gideon to be standing next to her and mocking her while she tripped out on whatever Doyle had given her.

But that was a thought for a more coherent mind to ponder.

"I tried." She offered, the words sounding lame even to her own ears.

"How many people have died because of you? Because another case was more important?" He accused softly, his arms crossed in front of him as he looked at her with utter distain. "How many people have died because you decided they weren't important enough?"

She flinched, the words of the pseudo-Gideon mimicking the very thought that kept her awake at night.

"It was my job." She defended half-heartedly, so focused at the images in front of her that she missed the sound of the thick door opening.

"And was it your job to fake Lauren's death?" Doyle asked her, smirking as he watched her converse with the dark expanse around her.

She turned, obviously surprised at his presence.

"Was that your job?" Gideon asked, his voice taking on a suspicious Irish tilt.

"I'll never say." JJ murmured.

Doyle kicked her harshly in the stomach, the wall she was leaning on heavily offering no protection. "Where is she?" He shouted, kicking her once more.

JJ pulled instinctively at her arms, curling inwardly as best she could to protect herself. "I won't tell." She gasped as another blow caught her in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her.

"You will." Doyle smiled.

"You aren't strong enough." Gideon agreed, standing behind Doyle. "How can you live with yourself?"

Sometimes she wished she didn't have to.

She almost answered Gideon, but felt her mouth fail to respond to her command. Her eyes swam and she blinked slowly while Gideon disappeared. Her eyelids drooping heavily, she quickly fell into a light, drug-induced sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **_I've found in my own life that I'm generally my harshest critic. The team will have an opportunity to redeem themselves, so don't go hating them just yet. While none of them have likely ever even thought the things they say in JJ's visions, their 'pseudo-self' lays on the guilt and blame that I'd bet JJ takes on herself when she's all alone. Anyway, I hope you continue to enjoy the story._

_I know these chapters are short. They'll be longer eventually, I promise._

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><p>She was cold.<p>

That was the only thing she could think about.

She was so incredibly cold.

She tried to move, to sit defiantly—or at least look better than the pathetic lump she knew she looked like—but she couldn't force her body to respond as the thick door opened.

She was just so cold.

"Are you ready to tell me what I want to know Jennifer?" Doyle asked, both of them already knowing the answer.

"No." Her teeth chattered softly.

Surprisingly, she felt her arms fall down to her side, burning at the change in position after so long.

What day was it? How long had she been here?

She forced those thoughts away, right now, they didn't matter.

Before she could get to her feet—or really have any thought connected to anything other than being cold—Doyle ripped her up off the ground and flung her forcefully against the cold cement wall.

She hadn't been expecting it, so she had no way of preparing herself before her forehead crashed against the wall with a force that made her see stars. She crumpled back to the ground, her mind spinning as he picked her up once more. "Where is she?" He asked, flinging her against the wall again.

She felt the back of her head this time bounce off the wall like a child's toy, her scalp splitting open at the violent contact. She couldn't focus. Couldn't breathe.

She was going to die.

Doyle sighed, apparently satisfied with his attempt as he dropped her back to the ground and turned around without a second glance.

She tried to stand but found that her body was just too tired to cooperate. Her stomach boiled over and she vomited, unable to stop as any food in her system rolled out onto the cold concrete.

She was so cold.

"Pathetic." She heard a voice above her. She could barely lift her eyes before another wave of nausea overpowered her.

"Hotch?" She whispered, the effort exhausting her completely.

He was by her side in an instant materializing beneath her. She felt him run his hands through her hair, soothing her despite the fact that she could feel his disapproval radiating off him. "I never should have let you help with Emily."

She vomited, her stomach heaving its meager contents.

"I should have known you weren't strong enough." He murmured condescendingly. "How could I expect _you_ to keep her safe?"

"I didn't tell him." JJ shivered. It was an odd feeling, being so intensly cold while she could feel sweat dripping down her face.

Despite the fact she couldn't see his face, she could feel his frown looking down at her. "And how long will that last?" He asked coldly.

She sobbed as he disappeared leaving her totally alone.

He was right, he never should have trusted her.

But she wasn't going to fail this time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **_I've found in my own life that I'm generally my harshest critic. The team will have an opportunity to redeem themselves, so don't go hating them just yet. While none of them have likely ever even thought the things they say in JJ's visions, their 'pseudo-self' lays on the guilt and blame that I'd bet JJ takes on herself when she's all alone. Anyway, I hope you continue to enjoy the story._

_I know these chapters are short. They'll be longer eventually, I promise._

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><p>She woke sometime later, her head pounding more than she ever thought possible. Her nose was dripping. Her eyes were watering. Her mouth was dry.<p>

JJ peeked one eye open, surveying the room around her.

She felt like she could barely see straight.

She was somewhat surprised to find herself sitting in the chair Doyle had occupied briefly. She shifted slowly, mindful of the awful pain in her head. Her arms were cuffed tightly behind her and her legs, previously unfettered, were now fixed tightly to the legs of the chair.

"Ah, you're awake." Doyle cocked his head to the side, looking down at the broken woman without pity.

JJ simply grunted in response, unable to come up with some well-thought up retort.

She hated that.

It was supposed to be different. She was supposed to be spunky and unwilling to give in. She was supposed to feel valiant at every moment.

Instead, all she felt was fear.

And pain.

"Emily told me where to find you." Doyle lied. "Tell me where she is and I will make her pay."

JJ licked her parched lips wishing desperately for water but holding on to her stubborn pride by just enough threads to keep her from begging for it. "No." Her throaty croak evidenced her parched mouth and Doyle grinned devilishly.

"Thirsty?" He asked extending a small cup of water to her lips, chuckling as she drank it up greedily.

"Shut up." She hung her head, spent from the effort while the lights and the conversation making the throbbing far worse.

He rubbed his eyes tiredly. She wasn't supposed to hold out this long.

He pulled out another syringe, almost feeling sorry for the poor woman.

Almost.

Her eyes widened at the clearish blue liquid.

He took immense joy at the way she shuddered away from him, obviously terrified as he quickly tied off her arm once more.

"Tell me where she is."

"I don't know." JJ's voice broke slightly and she cursed her own vulnerability. The statement was true, she didn't know exactly where Emily was.

And she wasn't about to betray her friend.

She felt her body literally twinge with anticipation as Doyle grabbed her arm forcefully.

"Wrong answer." Doyle plunged the drug into her immobilized arms, smiling as he watched it quickly work its way through the woman's system. "Maybe next time."

JJ watched the world swim with a familiarity she already detested.

"What's the point Jenny?" A voice beside her made her look up. "You should just tell him."

"Annie?" JJ blinked, her heart stopping slightly at the sight of the sister she never thought she'd see again.

Her sister—her dead sister—stood in front of her, looking at her with the same annoyance that the seventeen year old could only muster for her baby sister.

"Who else would I be?" Anna Jareau asked impatiently. "Honestly Jenny, you're so weird sometimes."

"You're not real." JJ murmured, closing her eyes as she willed away the personage in front of her.

"I'm standing here aren't I?" Annie snorted. "If I'm not real, why are you talking to me?"

JJ frowned, not having an answer to that.

Annie rolled her eyes. "I swear Jenny, sometimes you don't make any sense."

She looked at her sister, content for a second to take in the details she thought were long forgotten. Annie's hair, bleached naturally by the sun was the shade that no matter how hard she tried, JJ still couldn't emulate. Her eyes sparkled with a wit that JJ missed.

She remembered at eleven she worshipped her sister.

And then Annie was gone.

"I wish you were real." JJ admitted softly.

"It's your fault I'm not." Her sister retorted quietly. "You could have stopped me. You could have told mom. Instead, you were so selfish that you took my necklace without a second thought."

"I didn't know." Her voice broke.

"You should have." Annie accused.

JJ closed her eyes, wishing away the figure before her. "I know."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **_Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. _

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><p>She came to again, her entire body throbbing with pain, shivering at the biting cold that surrounded her.<p>

Or maybe the cold was inside of her.

She couldn't be sure.

Doyle stood over her, his face far too close to her own for comfort.

But she couldn't think.

She couldn't move.

All her body wanted was to forget.

She felt her chest suddenly exposed. "Would it make a difference if you knew what I could do to you?" Doyle asked, squeezing her breast hard. "Would you tell me then?"

She trembled, dying for a release from this prison that was so full of pain and anguish.

Doyle laughed, watching with a mixture of lust and delight as the woman shivered in her ripped t-shirt and cotton shorts.

He considered for a moment, shooting her up once more. She was already addicted, his friends with the black market drugs assured him that addiction would be almost instantaneous. Still, he had made sure that each dose was cut with something different—something to heighten and intensify the experience.

The poor bitch never had a chance.

Laughing as he watched her tremble uncontrollably, with her runny nose dripping down her face along with the sweat that matted her hair to her face, he stepped behind her and pushed the chair forward, grinning as she fell helplessly to the floor with a resounding crack while she howled in pain. He picked her back up, noting with satisfaction that her leg must have connected with some protrusion because her right leg was obviously broken.

Delighted, and knowing that withdrawal intensified the pain beyond anything imaginable, he turned, leaving the woman alone.

JJ's eyes swam, her head lolling as her body tried to shut down to protect itself from the pain.

Hours later, she was stirred from unconsciousness by a figure crouched over at her, looking at her with distain.

"Derek." The croak came out much more like a plea. "Help me."

"Why bother?" Derek asked rhetorically.

Her head dropped as tears streamed down her face, her body pleading for some type of release.

"How could you do this again?" Derek asked, disgusted.

"What—" She tried to compose herself, but to no avail as tears continued to cascade down her worn face. "What do you mean?"

"Doyle knows Emily's alive. How could you screw this up again?" He spat, shaking his head in disbelief. "Damn it JJ! You put her life in danger."

"I didn't mean to. Hotch and I—we thought it was best if—"

"There you go again, screwing up everybody's life because high and mighty Jennifer Jareau knows better." Derek rolled his eyes. "You've done it to everybody else, why should Emily be any different?"

"Derek, I—"

"You know what? We're better off without you." He said coldly.

JJ had no response for that. She knew he was right. They were better off without her.

Everyone was.

"You handed Reid over to Hankle." Morgan reminded her. "You pried into my life where you had no business being. You let Foyet practically kill Hotch." He shook his head. "What did you say once, that you _took care of us_?" He snorted incredulously. "Whatever."

Her mind went back to another time, another place, standing in a kitchen while Morgan heaped guilt onto her already rattled mind. She hadn't wanted to believe it then.

She believed it now.

"It's not my fault." She murmured, offering up a token defense.

"Do you really believe that?" He asked incredulously.

She bit her lip, acutely aware that she couldn't fool the man in front of her. He could see right through her.

"Neither do I."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **_Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. _

**Warning: **This chapter contains mentions of rape. I'm posting the next chapter so that any readers can simply skip over this chapter.

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><p>She felt sweat against her, hands where they shouldn't be.<p>

Pressure where it shouldn't be.

She tried to push the hands away, surprised to find her hands free from the cuffs that had encapsulated them almost the entire time. Her feeble attempt was met with a strong slap to the face and a snap of her left wrist that made her wonder what the pain would feel like later.

"Disgusting." Elle stood over her, looking at her with absolutely no pity. "You are worthless."

She gasped, cringing at the pain that exploded.

She knew what was happening.

But she couldn't stop it.

"You're letting this happen!" Elle cried, but JJ was far too gone to care. "Damn it JJ, fight! Fight back!"

She was too tired. Too weak. Too broken.

It wouldn't matter anyway.

Ian Doyle was going to kill her.

And she was way past beginning to hope that he killed her soon.

"Tell me where she is." Elle demanded, her voice sounding far too masculine and Irish to be really Elle. "Tell me and it will be over."

"I wouldn't tell if it was you." JJ murmured softly.

"Yeah, right." Elle snorted, leaving JJ alone. "You're useless. You've always been just a pretty face, what makes you suddenly grow a backbone now?"

For the life of her, JJ couldn't find an answer.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: **_Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. I am breaking my cardinal rule and posting two chapters for the same story on the same day simply because these ones are all really short and so that readers who wanted to skip the last chapter could still get an update. _

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><p>She wanted to die.<p>

She heard the door open and slowly inched her way back against the wall.

"Tell me where she is." Doyle approached her, smirking at her torn clothes and knowing that the woman would never be the same again. "And this will all be over."

"You'll kill me?" She asked, unable to keep the hope out of her voice.

She hated how broken she felt.

But there was nothing she could do to stop it.

"I'll kill you." He grinned, delighted at the prospect of getting what he wanted.

She thought about it. It killed her that she was so close to agreeing. That the small syringe was growing so powerful that she almost couldn't stop herself from bending to its will.

But she couldn't do that to Emily.

No matter what, she couldn't be that person.

But she hated the fact of how much she wanted to. "I _can't_." She sobbed softly fully aware of how weak she was.

He shook his head, pulling out another syringe this time with an orange tint. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

She didn't move as he quickly tied off her arm, her body craving whatever drug was in store for her, soaring as the drug quickly made work within her.

She soared, unfettered by the pain that had consumed her earlier.

Now, nothing hurt, she was free.

Only the knowledge that this would end, that the pain would be back stopped her.

But that wasn't important now.

Now, she felt like she could fly.

And she would enjoy it.

She opened her eyes briefly, not at all surprised to see David Rossi sitting on the chair she had once been bound to. He didn't look at her, didn't bother to talk as he read a book calmly.

"Dave?" She croaked out in a hoarse whisper.

She knew he could hear her, he looked at her briefly before ignoring her completely and turning back to his book.

She closed her eyes, curling up in on herself as she allowed the drugs to take her away.

And tried to ignore the nagging fear that maybe she had been forgotten.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: **_Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. _

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><p>"You lasted longer than I thought you would." Doyle sneered as he watched her try to recover from a well-placed kick to the ribs.<p>

It wouldn't be long now.

"Just kill me." She begged, pleading as beads of sweat rolled down her face while she clenched her stomach tightly.

"But that would take all the fun out of it." Doyle smiled, loving the game of cat and mouse. He took a syringe out of his pocket, flinging the yellowish liquid to the floor. He fished around in his pocket and similarly discarded the thin elastic cord. "Here's a little something to keep you company." He laughed outright at the internal struggle he could see forming on her face.

JJ licked her lips at the sight of the drug, her body desperate to escape the pain that had consumed her.

She hated it.

But she had to have it.

He turned around, knowing that the woman would be unable to hold out much longer. Soon he would have Lauren back, and he would make her pay. Until then, he would watch her friend slowly destroy herself.

JJ eyed the large syringe, inching closer to it as quickly as she could. Her ribs screamed every time she took a breath as if pleading for her to stop.

Every once in a while, she wondered if it would hurt less to cut off her own leg.

Her body hurt.

And her mind felt broken.

She picked up the syringe, salivating as her body surged with anticipation. She tied off her arm, acquainted with what needed to happen and wondered briefly how she could have fallen so far.

But she had to get this inside of her.

"You know the difference between a junkie, and a victim?" Spencer Reid asked sharply, leering over her. "A victim doesn't have a choice. _You_ are a junkie."

"No." JJ shook her head, trying to look past the tears as she held the syringe in her trembling hand, waiting as the veins in her arms rose to the surface. "He—"

"I didn't have a choice!" Reid shouted angrily as JJ plunged the drug into herself, hoping—pleading—that this might just be the end. "You left me." He spat. "Hankel got me because you _left._"

"We split up." She defended weakly.

"Right." Reid scoffed, rolling his eyes. "And now you're a common junkie. What a waste."

JJ hung her head in defeat. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"That's what they all say." He turned around, seething anger burning brightly in his eyes, "Yet you left us all again. And I hate you for it."

Her soul broke with the accusation. Her heart shattered in a million pieces.

She couldn't take this anymore.

As the drug took over blurring her senses and allowing her to blissfully forget the pain she was in, she realized something.

Right now, surging with a drug that was stealing everything away from her, she didn't care.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: **_Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. Thankfully, this is the last hallucination chapter, so stay tuned for what happens next._

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><p>She didn't know how long it had been.<p>

Days.

Weeks.

Years.

Decades.

Really, it didn't matter much anyway.

All she knew—all that mattered—was that Doyle was taunting her.

Teasing her.

Withholding the one thing she knew would make this all go away—at least for a moment.

And she was past hating herself.

Past being disgusted that she needed whatever he had almost more than she needed air.

She felt someone run their hands through her thick matted hair and looked up in surprise. "Penelope?"

Garcia frowned, looking down at JJ with a mixture of pity and disappointment. "I thought you were stronger than this Cupcake."

JJ curled toward her friend, surprised to find a chill in the air rather than the warmth only Garcia ever seemed to be able to provide. "I'm trying." JJ murmured.

Penelope nodded, poking what must have been a gigantic bruise at JJ's temple as the blonde winced with tears rolling down her face involuntarily. "You lied to me. You lied to all of us." The words held a slightly accusing tilt, but given the truth behind them JJ couldn't blame her.

JJ fell silent, almost unable to deal with the guilt that plagued her.

"I—"

"I understand why you did it." Garcia assured, placing her finger against JJ's sore and cracking lips. "But I can't forgive you for being willing to betray Emily. We're a family." She shook her head and looked at JJ with disgust. "You don't sell out family."

"I haven't." JJ choked out, tears rolling down her face though she made no effort to stop them.

"You will." Penelope assured, her normally soft and kind eyes full of disappointment. "Which is why none of us are coming for you."

JJ closed her eyes, Garcia voicing the fear that she was beginning to accept.

"I don't even know you anymore." Penelope pulled away from JJ's broken form, shaking her head.

"I would do anything for family." The words barely escaped JJ's lips and Penelope looked back at her with loathing. "I won't tell. I won't."

She could feel herself starting to lose whatever meager amount of control she still had.

But she needed Garcia's confidence.

"You _aren't_ a part of our family. You never were." And with that, she left JJ alone.

Truly and utterly alone.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: **_Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. So while I was tempted to end this story here, the more intriguing part for me is the emotional fall-out. Stay tuned :)_

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><p>He was there again, standing over her as she shivered uncontrollably.<p>

She couldn't take this much longer.

She was trying to stay brave, trying to remember why she couldn't tell Doyle where Emily was.

There was a reason.

It was something about death.

Something.

Italy. Emily was in Italy. She lived in Florence above a small bread shop with blue curtains in the window and a green door. Twice a month, on Saturdays, Emily visited Ville de Colmar in France and checked messages for Patricia. If anything went wrong, if Emily felt anyone following her, Hungary was the backup location and she was supposed to send JJ a letter from Elaina.

She couldn't remember why she wasn't supposed to say.

But she knew Emily's life depended on it.

She also knew that as soon as Doyle found Emily, he would finally kill her while he focused Emily.

Unfortunately, the latter was beginning to seem far more enticing.

"Drink." Doyle commanded her, holding a cup up to her dry cracked lips as he drew her from her thoughts. She had little choice but to swallow, wincing as the warm liquid poured down her sore and bruised throat.

Her head throbbed.

The pain in her wrist was unbearable.

Her skin felt as if it was being poked by a million tiny needles.

Her ribs howled in absolute torture.

She was acutely aware of every pain, every bruise, every broken bone—though it scared her slightly that she couldn't remember how each of them happened.

All she knew was that she was in pain.

Unbelievable pain.

"Make it stop." She begged softly, unable to stop the pathetic plea from escaping her lips.

He pulled out another syringe, holding it out to her.

Tantalizing her.

She reached for it quickly, desperate to make the pain stop.

He chuckled, pulling the syringe just out of her reach. "Tell me where she is and this is yours."

A choked defeated sob escaped her lips.

She had tried.

She had tried _so_ hard.

But she needed this to all go away.

She needed to forget.

Or remember, whichever the case may be.

But the thought of betraying Emily, of sending one of her closest friends—a friend that was far more like a sister—to certain death was too much.

Even for JJ's drugged and broken mind.

"She's in Iceland." JJ lied, picking the first country that came to her mind other than France, Italy, or Hungary.

Maybe it was because she was still so cold. Though, she vaguely remembered that Iceland wasn't cold. It was Greenland that was cold. Iceland was green, Greenland was cold. She tried to stop her rambling mind, focusing on the one thing that was important.

She had to get that syringe.

Doyle frowned at her, as if not certain whether to believe her. Iceland seemed far too close to his own home for Lauren to willingly hide there.

But maybe that was the point: hiding in plain sight. That was just like Lauren.

He handed the syringe over to the blonde, chuckling as she snatched it out of his hands. She reused the tourniquet from before and he smiled at the absolutely broken woman in front of him as she plunged the liquid into her own veins with a sigh of relief.

Maybe he should take a picture and show Lauren the consequences of her actions.

He turned, fully intent to have his many resources scour the small country for the woman who deserved nothing more than hell itself.

Glancing back at the woman huddled in the corner, he wondered if he should keep her friend alive long enough to join her.

Shutting the door tightly behind him, he looked around in surprise to see the two guards he had with him slumped over slightly with blood dripping from their obviously dead bodies. His surprise was only momentary as he saw the woman he had been waiting for standing elegantly in the corner with her gun down at her side.

"Miss me Ian?" Emily Prentiss spat angrily, ignoring the two dead men in the room as if they were simply decor.

"Like you wouldn't believe." Ian chuckled. "I'll admit, I didn't think you'd come for me this quickly."

"You kidnapped my best friend." She wiped the corner of her mouth slowly, dramatically elongating their conversation. "You had to know I would come for her."

Ian snorted. "Honestly I was pretty sure you'd let her suffer." He admitted, seething with anger at the sight of her calmly standing in front of him instead of cowering in fear like the bitch she was. "Just like you left me to rot in North Korea."

"You were a killer. She is my friend." Emily flung out the distinction easily, ignoring that they both knew better.

Now wasn't the time to get caught up in old relationships.

Now was the time to fix the greatest mistake in her life.

"Some friend." He scoffed, delighted to have some information to destroy the woman before him. "She just told me you were in Iceland." He waited for the shock of hurt and betrayal to wash over her and was a little surprised when it didn't.

Instead, Emily grinned. "She lied."

Doyle frowned, "I thought the blonde would be easier to break. Turns out I should have taken Aaron." He grinned softly. "Or maybe I should have started with either of their little boys."

They stared at one another for a second, waiting for the other to make a move.

Doyle lunged for a gun leaning precariously close to the door he had just closed, but Emily was far faster, leveling two shots easily square at his chest and a third to his groin for good measure.

At the sound of the shots, the team and dozens more FBI Agents swarmed into the building, but Emily was already pushing open the heavy metal door as Derek and Hotch came up beside her to help fling the door open quickly.

The trio entered the room together ignoring the sweltering hot air within the locked room, clearing it quickly in case of more hidden operatives. Emily tucked her gun into the back of her pants as she saw her friend, broken, bleeding, and dangerously trembling on the ground.

"JJ!" Emily cried, at the other woman's side in less than a second. "JJ we're here."

Vaguely, the blonde felt something calling to her through the thick cloud that dulled all of her senses while allowing her to soar unfettered by the pain that had consumed her earlier.

Was this what it felt like to die?

She hoped so.

"We've got her!" A voice barely penetrated the fog in her mind. "Down here."

She forced her eyes to open slowly, wishing that whoever was at her side would just leave her alone.

At the sight of the dark haired woman, looking down at her with caring loving eyes, JJ felt a sob erupt within her.

She had failed.

She thought she had been careful. She thought she hadn't cracked yet.

But she must have made a mistake.

"Shh," Emily soothed, "It's okay. We're here."

"No!" JJ cried hysterically, her words jumbling on top of themselves as she tried pushing Emily away with what little force she had left, "I tried, but I killed you."

Emily looked at her friend, stunned. "I'm okay JJ." She assured.

"I killed you." JJ sobbed, distraught that yet another failure was added to the long list of her own ineptitudes.

Hotch gingerly pushed Emily aside, lifting JJ easily into his arms. Intellectually, he knew he should wait until the building was cleared to get the medics in to take care of her.

Realistically, he didn't care.

And he was worried that there just wasn't enough time.

JJ was nearly delirious as he started stepping slowly out of the room, murmuring softly with every step. "So sorry. I'm so sorry." She muttered, not surprised to feel herself flying. "Sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Hotch assured her, trying not to notice the way her ripped and torn clothes barely clung to her.

She murmured softly, clinging tightly to him though he was semi-certain she didn't really know he was there.

"It's going to be okay JJ." He promised, fighting the familiar feeling of uncertainty that had been his constant companion for the last five days. "It will be okay." He repeated.

At least he hoped so.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: **_So now JJ is saved, but that doesn't mean that everything will suddenly be easy. And now, since JJ has had her chance to face her versions of the team members, it's the team's turn to redeem themselves somewhat. Also, I'm going to use this as a plot device to explain the investigation that saved JJ. It will make sense, I hope._

* * *

><p>At another time, he would have stopped himself, concerned that others might think he was losing it. The truth of the matter was he was barely hanging onto his own sanity.<p>

"Give her a damn blanket!" He spat with frustration, not bothering to care if he was annoying the paramedic currently leaning over JJ's shivering body.

"She's probably close to OD'ing." The medic explained hurriedly, ripping open some package as she continued to work on JJ. "Her fever is through the roof, a blanket isn't going to help."

He hated this.

He hated not being able to make it better. To be so useless and helpless as someone he cared about writhed in pain in front of him.

"You can talk to her." The medic suggested, and it left him wondering if her suggestion had more to do with hoping that she could avoid having him yell at her than if it would actually help. "It might calm her down."

"Hold on JJ." He commanded, chuckling despite himself at the sudden memory that his comment evoked. "That's an order."

Glancing back at the medic who was working feverishly over the barely coherent blonde, he smiled. "I don't know if you ever knew, but I remember the moment I knew you would be an incredible agent."

_He sighed, looking over the files in front of him with a mixture of shock and dismay._

_He never realized that building a team was so complicated._

_A knock at the door made him look up, "Jennifer Jareau is here to see you, Sir." A junior agent scurried away just as quickly, as if praying that he hadn't just made the greatest error of his young career._

_A quick glance at the clock made him smirk. Five minutes early—not too early, definitely not late. Just in control._

_"Agent Hotchner?" A young blonde woman stood confidently in his doorway, a picture of poise and grace as she smiled easily. "I had an appointment." She reminded him gently._

_"Of course." Hotch felt the corner of his mouth turn up, something that he was sure the blonde wouldn't recognize as a smile. "Please, come, have a seat."_

_The interview passed easily. He was genuinely surprised at learning the woman in front of him had grown up in a small farm town, but was cautiously aware that she only provided enough information for him to feel like she was opening up. _

_"One last question." He cleared his throat, amused to see her relieved smirk, as if daring him to trip her up. "This unit has suffered an immense loss—I'm sure you're aware—" He vaguely referenced the tragedy of Boston, grateful to see her frown sympathetically and nod in acknowledgement. "How would you handle integrating yourself into the unit?"_

_He caught her—he could see her walls crumble briefly as she contemplated her response, yet just as quickly as the walls had crumbled, she smiled confidently. "First, let me say I'm sorry for the loss of your colleagues." The warmth and empathy he could feel from her astounded him. He simply nodded, prompting her to continue. "But I'd like to speak frankly, Agent Hotchner, is that okay?"_

_"Please." He sat back, impressed by the way the 27 year old carried herself._

_"I have no intention of replacing anyone." She explained immediately, "But I am the best in my field. If you can't accept that, or if your unit is not ready for that, it would be better for us to part terms now."_

_His jaw dropped slightly, but he recovered instantly. No one had ever put him on the spot like that, almost daring him to make a decision right then._

_"We'd like to try you out on a temporary basis. See how one case goes and how you relate with the team."_

_She smiled brightly, and for some reason he got the feeling that this smile was born more out of the fact that she had just gotten her way._

_Shaking his head slightly, he gestured toward the open door. "We have a case, we'll be leaving in thirty minutes. I can have someone drive you home—"_

_"I have a bag stored in the lockers downstairs." She interrupted him, smiling easily and this time he could see the excitement dancing in her eyes._

_"Let's go."_

He realized he had stopped talking when the ambulance lurched slightly and JJ cried out in a pained whimper.

He held her hand more tightly than before, wanting to assure her that he was indeed there.

And he wasn't about to leave her.

_"What the hell was that?" She asked as they both slid off the podium, just out of view of the dozen reporters clamoring for more information. "Why didn't I know the UnSub is sending pictures to the Bureau?"_

_"Calm down Agent Jareau, that's an order." He commanded, his head already starting to ache from the tedium of another press conference._

_"An order?" She asked incredulously. "Permission to speak freely sir?"_

_"Denied." He rubbed his eyes tiredly, somehow aware that this wasn't just going to go away if he tried to scare her, but willing to give it a shot. _

_"Too bad." She snorted indignantly. "You intentionally crippled me from being able to effectively do my job."_

_"Your job is to tell the press what we say. **That** is your job."_

_"A job that I can't do if you don't trust me enough to tell me what information to keep back and what I can tell them!" She emphasized, not shouting but coming dangerously close to yelling at a superior officer._

_"I—"_

_"You let them blindside me!" She added, pointing back to the podium she had just come from. "I don't care if you don't think you can trust me, but now I've got to reassure both the press and the **public** that the FBI **is** aware of all relevant facts and were simply keeping it to themselves." She shook her head, growing more and more angry as she thought about the dirty underhanded tactic._

_"I couldn't be sure you could keep all of the information confidential." _

_"Well then you are an ass." She told him off, right to his face before spinning around to return to the room full of blood thirsty reporters._

_He stood, stunned._

_Throughout the entire case he had thought the blonde woman incapable of anything other than hard work with a likable easygoing attitude that seemed to meld with Morgan's flirtation and Reid's awkwardness. But it seemed he had touched a nerve._

_And oddly enough, he respected her more for pushing him back than he ever would have if she stayed silent._

_Jennifer Jareau was the BAU's new media liaison, if he could convince her to stay._

_God help the serial killers._

He heard the driver of the ambulance say they were only five minutes out and his heart soared with relief.

"I called Emily, JJ." He explained, his voice catching thickly at the awful decision he had been forced to make. "When Will called us, I called her right away."

_His stomach sank as Will's terrified voice read the note Doyle had left on their bedroom vanity._

_'I'm Coming For You Lauren'_

_It was enough to make him sick._

_Forcing aside the terror that welled inside him that yet another person under his command was in danger, he focused on the matter before him. He was grateful that Will agreed to come somewhere safe without argument._

_They couldn't let Doyle have the upper hand again. They had to get inside his head._

_And really, there was only one option._

_Besides, he reasoned, if it were him he would want to know._

_JJ and Hotch had argued at length when he demanded she give him some way to contact his former agent. She had insisted—no one other than the blonde would ever know how to reach her—it was safer that way._

_Eventually, Hotch won out with a foreign telephone number written on a sticky note and instructions to leave a message for Patricia._

_He only hoped Emily would be willing to put her life in danger for the team._

_Because if she didn't, he wasn't quite sure what he would do._

The ambulance screeched to a stop, doors opening and doctors running around, forcing him to stay behind as they wheeled her past doors where he apparently couldn't follow.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: **_I sincerely apologize for how long this took me to get out. Mostly, I got super busy, and I couldn't figure out how to finish this chapter. However, I hope to have fixed all of that, so updates should be quicker._

* * *

><p>.oOo.<p>

Will sat at JJ's bedside, trying to listen as various doctors droned on about how dangerous and telling the next 24 hours would be. They couldn't give her painkillers, for some reason that he couldn't remember if they ever told him. Something about surgery. He swiped at his red rimmed eyes, unable to comprehend anything other than the woman in front of him.

Mercifully, the doctors and nurses left one by one, and he felt a momentary surge of gratitude that her old FBI team was dealing with the formalities and paperwork while he could be alone with her.

"I'm so sorry Jay." Tears pooled in his eyes as he grasped JJ's hand tightly. "I should have—" His voice broke, guilt etched into every line and crevice of his face. She had been right there in his arms.

But when she was taken, he was asleep.

"I tell you what Cher, I called Hotch and they were on your case instantly."

_Will stirred, surprised to feel cold sheets beside him. JJ's new (somewhat cushy) job with the State Department had given them mornings to lounge in bed while they waited for the day to start._

_He sat up, instantly curious. Since JJ's transfer, she steadfastly refused to be awake before 6:30 in the morning, forcing him to brew their morning coffee—not that he minded. But JJ's current absence was unsettling, especially since it was clear she wasn't in the bathroom, and the baby monitor suggested Henry was sleeping quietly._

_Checking, to be sure he wasn't overreacting, he quickly made his way through each room of their Brownstone, worry growing at her absence._

_This wasn't like her._

_He went back to their room, scouring every surface for some explanation of where she might be—an early morning run (though he doubted it since she hated mornings with a passion)—an errand (though what he couldn't fathom)—a case (incredibly unlikely)._

_Stiffening, he noticed a piece of paper tucked between the mirror and the frame of their vanity. The handwriting, definitely **not** JJ's, confirmed his worst fear._

_Something was wrong._

_And though his extensive police training chided him instantly, he picked up the note to get a better look evidence procedures be damned. _

_JJ had told him about the case where Emily died, names like Lauren and Doyle floated through his mind with a sickening chill._

_Snatching his phone from the bedside table, he dialed the first number he could think of._

_Hotch._

_"Hotchner." JJ's friend's voice was clipped, tired as if hours had already been spent at the office this early in the morning._

_"It's Will. JJ—I think—she told me—" Will stuttered over his words, trying to get out a coherent thought._

_"Will what's wrong?" Hotch asked instantly, "Is JJ okay?"_

_"She told me about Doyle. Hotch, she's gone."_

_"What?" Hotch asked, his voice hinting that Will was right to feel a sense of dread._

_"I woke up and she was gone. All I could find was this note." He didn't bother to hide the panic behind his voice._

_He was a cop._

_He knew what happened to women who were abducted from their homes._

_They had to find her._

_He read the note quickly, the words burning themselves in his mind as he hoped that Hotch would have some magical answer._

_"We'll get her back." Hotch promised. "I'm sending a car for you and Henry. You'll be safe here at Quantico."_

_Will nodded, and realizing Hotch couldn't see his response, accepted the other man's offer quickly before disconnecting the call. _

_They had to find her._

"When I saw the note," Will smirked, rambling slightly because he didn't know what else to do,"I remembered that time." He could imagine her response—her adorable blush as she swatted him gingerly with the back of her hand—as he brought up a memory she wished he would forget.

_Last night had been the best of his life—by far. After months of late-night long-distance calls, and several lunch dates that coincided with various conferences, they had finally taken the next step._

_And it couldn't have made him happier._

_He had learned that JJ was skittish when it came to relationships. He snorted, skittish was an understatement. She vaguely mentioned something about her parents, and he was smart enough to leave that uncomfortable topic alone. But the more time he spent with her, the more she fascinated him._

_He stirred, expecting to find her beside him only to be disappointed when he realized nothing was beside him. He jolted up, pleading inwardly that she hadn't regretted the night they shared._

He shook his head, rubbing his thumb against hers gingerly. "I can remember the paper, the way the note smelled just like you." He felt a stray tear make the slow trek down his cheek, "But I can't remember for the life of me what it said."

He frowned, knowing that if JJ were awake she could remind him in an instant.

She was always doing that.

He wasn't sure if that was a woman-thing or a JJ-thing, but it astounded him every time how she was able to remember every detail of their courtship.

He loved that about her.

In fact, she could remember anything—everything—no matter how much he thought she had been distracted, she always remembered everything he told her.

Always.

_"Cher, are you even listening to me?" He asked exasperatedly, rolling his eyes as she poured over gory photographs on the couch, snuggled up tightly against his chest._

_"Of course I was." She looked up at him, smiling in a way that seemed to evaporate any anger he had toward her._

_"Oh really?" He scoffed, less angry than he had been before. His objective shifted from an argument in the making to delighting simply to prove her wrong. "What was I saying?" He asked, well aware that JJ had been completely focused on the work she brought home._

_Yes she was with the State Department._

_But that didn't mean she had become any less of a workaholic._

_"You were making plans to build a new fireplace." She shrugged, picking up another file and settling it on her lap before snuggling into him just a little closer. "Satisfied?"_

_He wrapped his fingers through her hair, marveling. "How do you do that?"_

_She snorted, "It's called multi-tasking William." She teased. "And if you had any ability to do that, we might be able to actually build a fireplace rather than getting distracted by your stupid hockey games." She elbowed him gently, smirking as he grunted in protest._

_"Jayje, if it were football season, you'd already be months behind your trusty 'To Do List'because you'd be too caught up in your fantasy team." He retorted._

_She laughed, pulling away from him. "Well if you're going to be like that, I'm going to bed." She grumbled, winking at him as she sauntered past._

_"Let me make it up to you." He begged following after her._

_"I'd like to see you try." She giggled as he chased after her quickly._

_And that night, he had indeed redeemed himself._

.oOo.

She fought through the cobwebs that seemed to cloud her mind, summoned by the impassioned plea that she just couldn't place.

_"You've got to come back Cher." _The voice—the soft voice that begged her to come back—broke, obviously overcome by emotion.

But she wasn't sure she wanted to.

Because everything still hurt.

She just wanted it to be over, she didn't want to hurt anymore.

But she wasn't that lucky.

Just as she felt herself let go, to enter into a realm where the pain finally seem to dissipate, one thought stopped her at the threshold.

To let go of everything, to live in a world free of pain, that was the reward of brave and valiant persons.

Not cowards.

And even floating, hiding behind a veil of unconsciousness, she knew that was something she didn't deserve.

Though it pained her to fight through the fog, to step back and remove herself from the fleeting comfort she had found, she pushed herself forward.

It took everything inside of her, every fiber of her being to focus her feeble effort into one action.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity later, she finally succeeded.

And squeezed Will's hand.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: **_I sincerely apologize for how long this took me to get out. I hope you enjoy. I have joined other fanfic authors on facebook, so if you want to chat with me or ever get a hold of me, friend me (kdzl yi)._

* * *

><p>Derek Morgan wasn't a man who was 'in touch' with his'feelings'.<p>

As he approached her hospital room, he wondered who exactly thought it was a good idea for him to pick JJ up from the hospital. But apparently Will had been called out on a case and no one else was available.

It killed him, to see her like this. To see her desperately trying to hold onto her pride despite the fear and pain in her eyes.

Taking a deep breath to steel his nerves, he pushed the door open gently, not surprised to find JJ already dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed. He winced as he saw her jump, but left it without a comment as she quickly regained her composure.

"Ready to get out of here?" He asked.

"Absolutely." She smiled, though both of them were aware that it was simply a plastered decoy over her trembling nerves.

He wisely chose not to mention it. "The doctor sign your release papers yet?" He asked, not bothering to step further into the room until she invited him.

She nodded, and he wondered if she was grateful that she could at least move now without waves of dizziness and nausea crashing against her. "We are just waiting for the nurse to bring me a prescription."

He frowned, wondering if there was something he could say to make this easier. He couldn't help but remember another time when their roles were switched.

_Derek yanked out the IV stuck in his arm, shirking off the medical equipment in almost one move. _

_"You are making a break for it?" JJ snorted, standing in the doorway like a mother catching her child with his hand in the cookie jar. "Really?"_

_"I'm fine." _

_"Derek you were shot." She cried incredulously. "Can't you just wait for a doctor to discharge you?"_

_"No." He shrugged, dangling his legs of the side of the bed as he looked around for his clothes. "Help me?"_

_"Not on your life." Her smile was mixed somewhere between amusement and worry. "Just wait." She commanded. Seeing he wasn't about to relent, she frowned and gestured to the injury on her brow. "For me?"_

_He grimaced at the reminder and relented slightly. "Hotch wouldn't wait." He retorted, reluctantly sitting back in the hospital bed under JJ's unwavering glare. "We've still got a case to solve and I'm stuck in this stupid hospital bed."_

_"Believe me. If it were Hotch I'd make him sit back down too." She promised him firmly. "You know Garcia would kill me if I let you go." JJ smiled, moving from her station at the door to come sit beside him. "It took everything Hotch had to convince her not to hop on a plane and nurse you back to health."_

_"I should call her." He frowned, imagining how upset his best friend would be. His relationship with Garcia was something he couldn't describe. It was more than platonic, nowhere near romantic._

_"You should." She agreed simply, "But you can hold off until your doctor comes by and releases you. She knows you're okay."_

_They sat in silence for a moment, both of them contemplating the earlier events of the day._

_He had been stupid, reckless. He winced at the sight of the small cut on her brow that was beginning to bruise around the edges._

_He had put her in danger._

_Yet rather than looking at him with a furious blame, she sat down beside him and urged him to stay and be treated._

_He didn't deserve a colleague like her._

_"Shouldn't you be getting checked out too?" He couldn't hide the soft accusation as he gestured toward her._

_"No, I'm a big girl. Only a wuss gets admitted to the hospital." She scoffed teasingly. Seeing him smile and chuckle softly, she shrugged, careful to keep her head as immobile as possible. "I've already been cleared."_

_He quirked an eyebrow, the one look conveying the question behind it._

_"Minor—_minor_—concussion." She stressed. "They offered to stitch it up, but I told them not to."_

_"Why not? Little JJ afraid of needles?" He teased._

_"You bet your ass I'm afraid of needles." She laughed seriously. "But I had to get out of there ASAP so I could take care of you."_

_He frowned, watching her closely as he contemplated how true that statement really was. "You take care of all of us." He surmised._

_She blushed slightly under his gaze before dismissing the sudden seriousness with a laugh. "Someone has to, otherwise you'd all be stumbling out of the hospital like a drunk man."_

Then she had known all the right things to say. The right words to put him at ease, just enough to lighten the situation without appearing demeaning or condescending at all.

And now, he had nothing.

The nurse stepped in, handing JJ a fistful of papers. "It looks like everything is ready Jennifer." The woman smiled brightly. "Dr. Hawkins wanted me to remind you once again to remember to take your medication on time because you are still going to be experiencing several minor after-effects." She looked down at the chart. "I could remind you of all of them again if you'd like."

Derek looked away, ignoring the slight blush that crept up JJ's cheeks as she stuffed the papers into her bag.

"No, that's fine. I—he—we talked about it." She stumbled over the words uncharacteristically.

"Since all of the paperwork is signed, let me grab a wheelchair for you and you can be on your way." The woman excused herself cheerfully.

JJ clenched her jaw tightly, obviously trying to hide the way the woman's bubby attitude seemed to grate on her nerves.

For lack of anything better or more comforting to say, Morgan remained quiet, pretending he hadn't seen her momentary lapse of control.

He wheeled her out of the hospital with surprisingly little protest. When he went to help her into the car, however, she pulled away, smirking softly. "I can get in myself."

"Would you just let me help?" He asked, smiling charmingly despite the way she rolled her eyes. "For my own peace of mind?"

"Whatever." She smiled in an attempt to soften her words, but the clipped edge to her tone informed him that she was more than mildly annoyed.

_He shifted uncomfortably as he stood on her doorstep, hesitating for nearly the hundredth time as he tried to talk himself out of the apology he knew was necessary._

_He had been an ass._

_But he wasn't entirely sure she would be receptive to him showing up in the middle of the night._

_Finally, sighing, he forced himself to knock sharply on the door, reasoning that if she didn't answer then it must be fate telling him that the right time to apologize would come in time._

_He waited, feeling a surge of relief as no lights turned on and he heard nothing signifying any movement on the other side of the door. Eventually, he decided enough time had passed and turned to leave, stopping as a soft creak at the door signified it opening slightly._

_"Derek?"_

_"Hey Jayje." He smiled lamely, suddenly aware that showing up at a colleague's home after the week they had was probably the last thing JJ expected from him. "Can I come in?"_

_"No." She replied, her voice worn and tired. "What are you doing here?"_

_She had every right to be tired. She had just been mauled by dogs._

_And then he made her feel guilty for it._

_He groaned at the memory, well aware that if anyone had overheard that statement they would have shot him on the spot._

_"Let me in?" He asked, pleading as he hoped not to have this important conversation out on her porch._

_"Go home." She insisted forcefully. "I'm tired, and all I want to do is collapse into a bubble bath, so please just go home."_

_"Please. For me?" He cringed at the blatant manipulation. "For my own peace of mind?"_

_He could tell she was torn about whether to let him in or not, weighing her nurturing instincts against her desire to shut the door in his face. "Fine." She relented, still standing behind the door as if for protection. "I am tired." She admitted. "So I don't have long—"_

_"I came to apologize." He admitted, cutting out any sense of pretense as he interrupted her. "I was an ass."_

_She shrugged, opening the door just a little more to reveal dark circles under her eyes as she looked up at him. "It's fine, whatever." She brushed it off as nothing more than a token apology._

_She didn't believe him. He could almost see it in her eyes and it killed him._

_It was more than survivor's guilt. JJ actually believed she was responsible for Reid's tormenting experience._

_And he had only added fuel to the fire._

_"It's not fine." He insisted, desperately wanting someone to come and kick his own ass for making her feel this way. "JJ, what happened with Hankle—that's not on you. We see victims every day…" He trailed off, reminded that she saw far more evil than even he did on a daily basis, "But the UnSubs who choose to hurt people, it's their fault." He explained, well aware that his soliloquy was woefully absent of the comforting words he knew JJ would be able to provide if their roles were reversed. "It's not on you."_

_"Sure it's not." She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Goodnight Derek." She shut the door quickly, not waiting for any more of a response. She wasn't ready to forgive herself. Nor was she ready for Morgan's forgiveness, though the fact it was offered would mean more to her than he would ever know._

_He frowned at the closed door, vowing that he would be there every step of the way, reminding her that it wasn't her fault._

_And he wasn't going to give up until she believed him._

"I think I can manage from here." She offered him a faux smile, stopping him at the door. "Thanks."

"Are you sure?" He hesitated, not wanting to push the boundaries but feeling a surge of protectiveness over the woman who had been through so much. "Jayje, I've got the whole afternoon off. I can help."

She waved him off, "No. All I want to do is go to sleep. You go home. Will is going to be home in a couple of hours so there is no need for you to play babysitter." She insisted, a firmness underlying her tone that told him she wasn't going to accept no for an answer. "Thanks Morgan."

"JJ?" He lifted his arm to stop her before catching himself, calling out to her instead as he dropped his arm to his side. "Uh—"

She looked at him quizzically, "Yeah?"

He felt the words leave his mouth before he even thought to stop them, and only as the words began to flow did he hope she believed their veracity. "In that warehouse, I don't know what—"

"I'm really tired Derek," She interrupted, choosing her words carefully. He knew as well as she did that the use of his first name was on purpose. It let him feel like she was letting her guard down, that she was opening up. "If you don't mind, I just—"

But despite that, or maybe because of it, Morgan felt prompted to continue. This wasn't just some victim the team would leave behind at the end of the case that would get over it in a few months. This was JJ. And she had nearly given her life to protect Emily's secret.

If that wasn't loyalty, he didn't know what the hell was.

"I just—I wanted to say thank you." He stopped her this time. "You saved her life JJ." His voice caught slightly but he ignored it, choosing instead to focus on JJ who was steadfastly refusing to catch his gaze. "You are the bravest person I know."

He saw her jaw clench tightly as if she was struggling to suppress a surge of emotion, but he waited.

"You saved her _twice_." He added. "You saved her from Doyle twice, and I don't know how to thank you."

"She would have done it for me." JJ murmured, staring off to the side as her mind seemingly replayed something Derek was not privy to see.

"But you lied to us. To all of us, your _best friends_," He emphasized, awe filling his voice as he imagined how hard that must have been for her, "Because you had to save her."

"I should really go—" She turned away from him, her voice rising slightly in pitch as if she was struggling to keep her emotions at bay.

"She came back." He called after her, relieved to see her hand freeze on the doorknob. "She came back because she had to save you."

_The tension in the room was so thick he could cut it with a knife. Glancing around, he could tell that none of the rest of them had any idea what had caused Hotch to gather them so secretively._

_"Does anyone know why—?" He leaned forward to ask, only to have Hotch burst into the room quickly._

_"I don't have time for you to ask questions." Hotch insisted immediately, his voice low and the words coming out quickly before the others had any chance to respond, he continued. "I need all of you to pay attention and let me explain fully, and follow orders. If you can't do that, step out now." _

_"Hotch?" Garcia asked tentatively, concerned with how the normally calm and cool Unit Chief seemed to have disappeared completely behind this new man who was barking orders._

_"Leave or stay. Make your choice now." He reaffirmed._

_"You know we're all staying." Rossi spoke up, not needing to glance around at the others to know he had voiced their sentiments as well._

_"What is this?" Derek asked, his mind already jumping to questions about what he was sure would be the next terrorist attack._

_"No questions." Hotch reminded. "I need each of you to tell me you are either in, or you walk out that door right now and don't turn back."_

_They went around the room, each of them uncertainly affirming their allegiance to a cause they didn't yet understand._

_Derek had the distinct feeling that whatever it was couldn't be good._

_Seemingly satisfied that the others were willing to follow him, Hotch sighed, uncharacteristically running a hand through his hair as if he was wondering where to start. Grimacing, he began. "JJ was abducted from her bed this morning while she slept." He plunged in, ignoring the gasps from the others._

_"What are we waiting for?" Reid stood up, quickly, distraught at the thought of what she could be going through. "Why are we just sitting here?"_

_"No questions." Hotch barked authoritatively._

_"Who could have done this?" Garcia gasped, tears brimming in the corner of her eyes._

_Hotch shot her a censuring look before answering, "We know who did this. It was Ian Doyle." He flung copies of the note at the others, frowning as they each offered him silent questioning looks. "There is only one reason Ian Doyle would go after JJ—" He cleared his throat, taking in a deep breath as he prepared himself for revealing a secret that was going to incite betrayal from people he trusted with his life._

_He just hoped they would forgive them._

_Just as he opened his mouth to continue, another voice interrupted._

_"To find me." A voice from the doorway made them all turn around, though Derek kept his eyes on Hotch._

_That voice, it couldn't be._

_But at the obvious relief on Hotch's face, and the shocked surprise by the others, curiosity eventually won out as he glanced behind him, only to have his jaw drop in disbelief._

_"We've got to hurry." Emily Prentiss stood in the doorway confidently. "She's not going to have much time."_

* * *

><p>She shut the door, bracing herself against it as she finally allowed the tears to cascade down her worn cheeks.<p>

She hurt.

Everything hurt.

And as she starred over the first floor of her home, she couldn't help but realize that things couldn't change.

Ian Doyle would always be a part of her.

He was never going to leave her alone.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the delay in posting. Thanks to everybody who is following this story.

* * *

><p>Two months later, Reid found himself waiting in front of JJ's door, cursing himself momentarily that he hadn't been a better friend. He hadn't seen JJ in weeks. She was still recovering.<p>

But Will's frantic call spurred the profiler to action.

"Spencer, thank you for coming." Will ushered the genius into his and JJ's Brownstone in a hushed whisper.

"Of course I would come." Reid scratched his head in surprise. He still wasn't quite sure what he was doing here, but when it came to JJ or Henry, he was just about willing to walk across hot coals.

After all, it was simply an issue of mind over matter.

Will buried his head in his hands, obviously exhausted. "I just got a call from dispatch, I've got to go in and Henry's babysitter can't get here for another couple of hours."

Reid nodded still somewhat confused. "Isn't JJ here?"

Will frowned. "She just started her new pain meds." He sighed, running his hand through his short dark hair in frustration, "Just—" He hesitated, obviously having more to say but being unwilling to say it. "Can you stay with Henry?"

"Absolutely." Spencer agreed.

Will left hurriedly, informing Reid that Henry was currently taking a nap before rushing out the door.

He stepped into the kitchen, surprised to see JJ nearly jump out of her skin when she turned around from where she had been fiddling with something she now held behind her back. "Oh—Reid. You scared the hell out of me." She narrowed her eyes, "What are you doing here?"

He stepped back slightly in surprise—JJ was never this crass. Or angry. "Will asked me to come and watch Henry." He explained, still not entirely understanding why his presence was required.

JJ blew out her breath, obviously angry as she limped toward the kitchen table, stuffing something quickly into her pockets as if she was desperately trying to hide it from his view. "Damn it, I told him not to." She grumbled.

"Sorry." Reid smiled uneasily as she brushed past him.

He had known her for years, yet he had never seen her like this.

"Well he's taking a nap." She shrugged, collapsing into the chair and picked up an open bottle of Smirnoff before pouring herself a glass. "So take a seat I guess."

"Aren't you still on pain pills?" Reid asked curiously, nervous as the consequences of mixing pain killers with alcohol rushed through his mind. "Mixing alcohol with medications can cause nausea, headaches, lessen the potency of a drug's effectiveness—" He rattled off, concerned that maybe JJ just wasn't aware of how dangerous it could be.

"I know." JJ interrupted, snorting inelegantly at the situation, unconsciously fingering the small bulge in her pocket. "Being on disability has it's perks." She shrugged, distain clearly lining her voice. Glancing up as she nursed the glass in front of her, as if daring Reid to press further, almost pressing him to mention the empty bottles of tequila and various other liquors that filled the garbage can, she added, "I don't see how that is any of your business."

Reid frowned, something was wrong.

He had seen this before.

He had been this before.

But it didn't make him any better equipped to handle the emotional torment going on inside of the woman in front of him.

"It's my business because I care about you." He said finally, hating the way his voice sometimes reached a ridiculous pitch that made him feel four years old.

He knew that he was not the best at handling these situations. There was something about the complex range of emotions that made him desperately want to have an answer, despite knowing it wasn't something he could easily quantify.

Statistics. Experiments. Theories. Quantifiable data. That was where Spencer Reid excelled.

People. Emotions. They were JJ's specialty.

Yet right now, JJ needed him and he longed to be able to step forward and offer words that were calculated to rectify the entire situation.

But he was Spencer Reid. And this was _JJ._

He thought back to the first time he met her, starkly contrasting the woman before him and the woman from so long ago.

'_Everyone, Agent Jareau—JJ—' Hotch corrected himself immediately as they stepped onto the plane, 'will be joining us as media liaison for this next case. I trust—'_

_Reid smiled and Morgan laughed heartily as the woman cut off Hotch's long introduction by stepping forward and introducing herself to the nearest person individually._

_Hotch sensed this part of his responsibility was done and offered an amused smirk before settling down into his typical seat on the jet. 'Take a moment to get situated and we'll start after takeoff.'_

_The blonde introduced herself around the room before settling into a seat beside Reid. 'It's okay if I sit here, right?' She confirmed, smiling brightly despite the way she picked at her fingernails as if trying to hide an uncomfortable nervousness._

_He dismissed that thought, blushing slightly as he nodded. 'Yes. I mean, sure.' He felt himself rambling, but couldn't seem to stop himself from blurting out a string of facts while under the woman's gaze. 'Technically, it would depend on your definition of 'okay'. If you are asking whether it is permissible for you to sit there, or if there is some sort of unmentioned cultural norm that we all abide by but haven't informed you of yet, then the answer is yes it is okay.' He stopped, realizing that the rest of the team plus the new girl were looking at him in confused surprise._

_The new girl—JJ—chuckled, looking across the aisle at Morgan with a quirked eyebrow. 'Is he for real?'_

'_As real as a toothache.' Derek grinned, raising his eyebrows in a way that made Reid blush._

_She turned back to him, patting him gently on the arm. 'I think, Dr. Reid, that this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.'_

That friendship, it had been one of the best things in his life. It was honest. JJ sometimes laughed at him when he was awkward. Cried when he was insensitive. Grinned when he was oblivious.

But her friendship was one of the deepest interpersonal connections he had on this earth.

And it was because of that connection that he was worried.

He noticed JJ shift uncomfortably in her seat and realized she didn't quite know how to respond.

If he wasn't worried before, he sure was now.

"How are you?" He asked, watching her closely for any hint of deception.

Years of poker games had taught him her tells, and despite her nearly impassive mask of control, he felt his stomach drop as she tucked her hair behind her ear and lied. "Never better." She shrugged.

He frowned, waiting for something else, _anything_ that might hint that she wasn't trudging down the same path he had years before. The very thought that she could be experiencing that sort of torment made him drop the charade entirely. "Are you really going to sit here and lie to me?" He asked poignantly.

She held his gaze defiantly, her deep blue eyes darkening with anger as her lips drew into a tight line. "Back off Spence. Leave it alone."

"No." He insisted. "If it were me, you wouldn't." He bit his lip, wondering if bringing up such an intimate memory was crossing the line before surrendering entirely to his instincts and added, "You didn't."

She fell back slightly as if stung by the reminder.

She hadn't given up on him, and he wasn't about to give up on her.

_He held the crook of his arm tightly, panicking as his free hand fumbled to open the door._

'_JJ.' He gasped, praying desperately she wouldn't notice the hungry pain in his eyes. 'What are you doing here?'_

'_Where is it Spence?' She asked, pushing past him into his slightly messy apartment. _

'_I don't know what you're talking about.' He murmured, stepping back as she whipped around sharply._

_Her face softened as she studied him, but her words remained harsh. 'Yes. You do. Now what is it? Morphine? Heroin?'_

_He felt his mouth fall open, stunned. How did she know? Could the others tell?_

'_JJ, please. Just leave me alone.' He pled, crossing his arms tightly around him._

_He could nearly see her heart breaking through her eyes and she sighed, her words taking on a gentleness that surprised even him. 'I'm not leaving Reid.' She promised._

'_Why not?' He spat, desperate to get her to back off her crusade. 'You did just fine abandoning me in Georgia.'_

_He watched his words strike her and she closed her eyes and gulped down as if painfully trying to separate herself from the guilt he knew she felt. 'You don't mean that.' She assured, her voice less certain than it had been before._

'_I do.' He asserted, though both of them knew he was lying. 'So just go away.'_

'_No.' She took a deep breath, reasserting her conviction. 'If I abandoned you before, I'm not doing it now.'_

_He frowned, hating the determination in her eyes. 'Why? Why can't you leave me alone?'_

'_Because it isn't your fault.' She added, and he could see the guilt she had heaped upon her own shoulders, 'And I'll be damned before I lose you again.' She stepped forward, closing the gap between them as she touched his arm reassuringly. 'Now where is it?'_

_He closed his eyes, hating that she was the one person he couldn't lie to. 'In my bag.' He admitted, his voice no larger than a whisper. 'And in the kitchen, under the sink.'_

_She swept through his apartment quickly, checking the places he had said, and judging by the look on her face also finding the small stash held in the tank of his toilet._

'_I'm going to get you help.' She promised. 'You aren't going to do this alone.'_

'_I don't deserve your help.' He shook his head, ashamed that not only had he had fallen so far, but it had been so obvious that even JJ had known._

'_You do.' She disagreed. 'And one day, you're going to believe me.'_

"Let me help you." Reid's voice was softer than he had ever heard it as he leaned forward to touch JJ's hand gently.

She flinched, yanking herself back as tears collected in her eyes. "I don't want your help." She admitted softly, adding almost imperceptibly under her breath, "I don't deserve it."

He opened his mouth, ready for some statistical analysis to flow from him only to find himself unable to form any words until a loud cry from upstairs snapped him from their conversation.

Henry's cry grew more frantic. "JJ, we aren't done talking about this." He promised her, feeling almost nauseous as she rolled her eyes.

"Leave me alone Reid." She shrugged nonchalantly, nursing the cup in front of her. She watched as Reid slowly extracted himself from the room, obviously frustrated by his inability to penetrate the icy cold walls she had erected around herself.

She bit the inside of her lip, wondering why it felt like her heart was shattering all over again.

She hated this, this feeling inside that never seemed to go away.

Why didn't they all just understand that she was _broken_.

She didn't know how to fix it.

Maybe there was no fixing it.

Hours later, she honestly thought he had forgotten about her down in the kitchen, and for some reason, she couldn't decide if that was a good thing or something else to add to the tears left unshed. One look, just after she had heard him put Henry to bed informed her that no, Reid had most definitely not forgotten about her.

Or their conversation.

Frowning with the absolute certainty that this was the _last_ conversation she wanted to have, she stood, swaying slightly as she cursed the inordinate amount of alcohol she had already consumed. "I'm going out." She announced, not allowing herself to flinch as her voice slurred even to her own ears.

Again, she knew she was broken beyond repair.

Why couldn't they all understand.

He shook his head, obviously debating whether to say something or not.

The truth of the matter was, something was wrong. And she knew it too.

She just couldn't help it.

"Did you know that sunflowers do something called heliotropism, where the flowering head tracks the movement of the sun?" He blurted out, and for just a moment she felt a small giggle bubble inside of her that seemed to die as she took in the seriousness of his face.

"No." She shrugged. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"The sun is an interesting thing." He shrugged in return, guiding her to sit back at the table where he sat across from her. "Because yes, it gives life to everything in the world, but too much sun can be an adversary that dries up the roots of the sunflower." He explained.

"Okay." She narrowed her eyes, still not following. She wasn't sure if it was her alcohol addled mind, or that he really just wasn't making sense.

"Yet, no matter how adverse, the face of the sunflower continues to face the adversity head on, tracking every movement of the sun almost defiantly." His face softened as he looked at her, reaching out to place a comforting hand on hers only to have it shrugged away almost violently. "You remind me of a sunflower." He added. "This is tough, but you will get through it."

She snorted at that. "Me? You think I'm dealing with this _well_?" She asked, trying to piece together what he was saying. "You think I'm facing this?"

"I think you want to." Reid concluded, seemingly not bothered by the toxic anger that seemed to silence Will every time.

"I think you don't know what the hell you're talking about." JJ spat. "Get out of here."

"I think I know exactly what I'm talking about." He shot back. "I think I know now what it feels like to look for a person that you know you should have protected. But I also know what it feels like to be waiting for the team when they just don't come in time to save you from the real monsters."

"I thought I was going to die." She admitted.

"I did too." He confided, his mind going back to the horror and stress of having to find her, just to see now that they really had failed.

'_We buried you.' Reid blurted, staring at Emily in shock as his mind whirred quickly to try to make sense of seeing something he knew couldn't be real._

_For a brief second, he wondered if everyone else was seeing it too._

_But judging by the shocked looks of the others, he felt a wave of relief that the others were just as shocked._

'_Where would he have taken her?' Hotch asked, not bothering to explain why he wasn't surprised by Emily's return._

'_Wait, hold on just a second—' Garcia sputtered, 'You're alive? You were dead!' She stood, rushing over to Prentiss and holding the older woman tightly. 'I'm so happy to see you.'_

'_Look, JJ's missing.' Hotch barked, nearly losing his patience. 'We don't have time for this. Prentiss, where would he have taken her?'_

'_Doyle loves warehouses.' Emily spoke up, extracting herself from Garcia's tight grip. 'He also is a classic narcissist. He'd want to hold her somewhere close, somewhere that would make it seem like it was right under our noses.'_

'_We buried you.' Reid repeated, 'You faked your own death?'_

'_More like had it faked for me.' Emily murmured, shooting him an apologetic look. 'I know this is a shock, and I'm sorry if I hurt you, but Doyle was out there and I had to protect you.'_

'_You've done a great job of protecting us.' Derek spat sarcastically. 'JJ was taken because you faked your death.' He didn't bother to hide the accusing tone in his voice anger radiating off him in waves, and for a moment, Reid almost expected the other man to punch someone._

'_Morgan, Prentiss didn't fake her own death alone.' Rossi spoke up, glancing between Hotch and Prentiss for confirmation. 'That's why Doyle went after JJ. He was looking for Emily?'_

'_You mean she lied to us?' Morgan sputtered, anger quickly turning to fury as the situation became clear._

'_The fact remains, JJ's missing and we have to find her.' Hotch spoke up without a hint of regret. 'If you can't do that, get out.'_

_Morgan glowered, folding his arms defiantly. 'We'll find her, but when we do I'm going to give her a piece of my mind.' He promised._

'_What will he do to her?' Garcia asked, her voice shaking at the thought of what her best friend might be forced to endure._

'_Doyle's looking for information.' Rossi explained, 'He won't kill her until he gets it. JJ knows that—'_

'_But—" Garcia interrupted, sensing something that they were all desperately trying to avoid saying._

'_Doyle spent years in prisons in North Korea. He will torture her.' Emily admitted, her own voice breaking. 'And he won't go easy on her.'_

_Reid sat back, wondering. Calculating._

_How could so much go so very wrong?_

"JJ, you need help." He insisted, emboldened by the fresh tears he noticed pooling in her eyes. "Let me help you."

"No one can fucking help me!" She cried. "No one!" Seeing he grew silent, she couldn't stop herself from airing the dark secret she had tried to hide. "Don't you all get it? I'm never going to be the same! You all swoop in and 'save me', but I should have died—I _deserved_ to die."

"Why?" He asked, uncertain where some of this self-loathing was coming from.

"I was going to tell him." She admitted, her voice falling to no more than a whisper as she remembered how easily her resolve had cracked. "That last time—I was going to tell him. When I saw Emily, I thought I had."

"JJ—"

"Look, anything you say—"

"No." Reid insisted, not allowing her to brush him off. Not this time. "Listen. JJ, you went through something incredibly traumatic. You were brave and valiant, but at some point, all of us would have cracked."

"Don't—" Her voice trembled as she stopped him. "Don't say that. It's not true—"

He sighed, wondering just how he could get through to her. This wasn't something that he could tackle on his own.

She needed professional help.

"JJ, I know a place. A treatment center—"

"You want me to go to rehab?" She asked, hurt and vulnerability seeping into her voice in a way that made him want to crawl under a rock and die for even suggesting it. But he pushed forward.

Because this was JJ.

"Yes. This place—I went to this place…" He trailed off, not needing to explain when. "They help with trauma and coping behaviors."

"I don't need help."

"You probably don't." Reid agreed, aware of just how much JJ hated to be out of control. "But I think you _want _help."

"How could you know what I want?" She asked, but the ache in her eyes that he could almost see pushed him forward.

"Maybe you don't want help, and that's okay." He stated, "But don't do it for me. Do it for Henry." He implored, well aware that it was a little manipulative to use Henry, but if it got her the help she obviously needed he was willing to do whatever it took.

"Henry." She sighed, tears suddenly coursing down her cheeks at the reminder of what a failure of a parent she had become. Her son had once been everything.

Yet now, all she felt was empty.

When she held him, or at least when she had _tried_ to hold him, all she could remember is what a failure she had been at being the mother that little boy deserved.

"How did you know?" She asked, not bothering to clarify further. The question encompassed so much: how did he know he was struggling (though that much had been obvious); how did he know what she needed; how did he know what she needed to do for Henry?

"Because I have been there." He assured her. "And because I don't think you want to feel this way."

She dropped her eyes to the table, not looking at him as she brushed lightly at the corner of her eye in an attempt to hide the small well of tears that had pooled there. "Okay." She offered in a whisper so small he almost thought he had heard her incorrectly.

"Okay. I will give them a call." He smiled reassuringly.

It wasn't the final answer.

But it was a start.


End file.
